


Day 17. Drooling

by Munnin



Series: Fictober [17]
Category: Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 01:38:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16316669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Munnin/pseuds/Munnin
Summary: A good slicer is hard to find, especially when you ask the wrong fixer.





	Day 17. Drooling

Swan Le didn’t like Coruscant. He didn’t like the Core in general but work was work. Or so he kept telling himself. And at least the ecumenopolis was racially diverse enough he didn’t stick out. Well, much. 

He never understood why other beings found him attractive. Or why they seemed to feel compelled to interrupt his waiting with dumb pick-up lines and offers that didn’t interest him in the least. 

Some of them were even drooling, like he was some tasty morsel. Even the thought made him shudder.

At least it happened less in 79’s. Swan had managed to avoid contact with the clone troopers of the Republic army. So far. But at the last minute, his contact had changed the meeting place to the popular clone bar. It was rowdy and loud but at least he was being hit on less. 

Why would anyone choose a place like this?

A clone bar meant the work was on the level at least. No-one was dumb enough to conduct under-table deals while surrounded by the Republic’s custom grown goon squad. 

Maybe. Hopefully. Surely no-one was that dumb?

Why, oh why had he agreed to meet for this job? There were much more civilized ways of doing business. A hive like Coruscant had to have dead-drops or hand-offs aplenty. Why would anyone meet in person? 

And then his contact walked through the door and Swan knew. 

Toshi Nink stuck out like lekku on Twi'lek. And was a sight Swan very much hoped never to see again.

Swan was on his feet and swung his bag onto his back before Toshi reached his table. “No.” He sidestepped as the Nikto tried to get in his path. “Not happening.”

“I need a slicer, Le. And you’re the best I’ve ever worked with.” 

“You seem to have forgotten what happened last time.” He tried to get around Toshi but the bunch of clones blocked his way. Some sort of drinking game was happening at the table next to his and a crowd was gathering to watch.

“Swan, please? For old time’s sake.” Toshi pleaded and Swan winced.

“No! Especially not for old time’s sake.” Swan hissed, his voice low. “You and your crew nearly ruined my life. And that captain of yours-” He shuddered at the memory. “No. Not again. Not ever. Leave me alone.”

“They- I’m not with them anymore. Swan, please? It’s a simple job. And it pays well. Let me… I’m trying to make up for… what happened.”

Swan’s eyebrows shot up, almost vanishing under the brim of the flat cap he wore low to hid his unusual hair. “You think a job is going to make up for that? Unless you’re handing me the key-codes to the Republic treasury, no job is going to pay well enough to make up for _what happened._.” He adjusted the straps of his bag, the custom moulding fitting perfectly to the curve of his spine. He was ready to make a break for the door as soon as he could find a gap. “Besides, if the job was that easy, you won’t have called me.”

The Nikto gave something between a laugh and a shrug. “No, that’s true. I called you because you’re the best. And this job needs the best.”

Toshi had Swan’s interest now. And Swan hated himself for it. Professional pride. The one thing that could screw him over time and time again. 

And worst, Toshi could tell. “I’ve got something. Something that needs slicing. Something no-one has sliced before.” He opened the bag he was carrying, just enough for Swan to glimpse what was inside. 

The head of a T-series Tactical Droid.

Swan looked at Toshi in speechless revulsion. “You want me, to slice that?”

“Yeah. The Republic-”

Swan cut him off with a gesture. “The Republic has slicers. They wouldn’t farm a job like this to someone like you.” He looked around, dodging another clone. Whatever the drinking game was, it was getting pretty heated. Out of a desire to get further away from the rowdy mob, Swan let Toshi lead him to one of the bar’s shadowed corners. 

Toshi waited till they were alone again, or as alone was anyone was in a bar before going on. “It’s a Republic job. But they haven’t been able to crack it. One of my contacts approached me. I said I knew a guy.”

“Me? You took this job before you even asked me, didn’t you?” Swan sighed with frustration. He knew he should walk away, scrub all his contacts and start screening his calls better. 

But, he wanted a run at that thing. To slice what the best of the Republic couldn’t. “How much?” 

Toshi flashed him a number on his wrist-pad. It was a reasonable number. Not great given the scope of the work but reasonable.

“And how much have you taken out for your cut?” Swan asked archly. “You better not be skimming me on this.”

Toshi sighed and amended the number. To a much more attractive number. 

“Half up front, half when I slice it.” Swan demanded, hands on narrow hips. 

“But if you can’t-”

Swan cut him off with a growl. “Don’t insult me by finished that sentence! What’s the time-frame?”

“A week. But-”

Again, Swan growled. There was always a _but_.

“The head,” Toshi explained. “It can’t- you can’t take it with you. It has to stay with a Republic escort.” He nodded to a fully armoured clone watching them from the bar. “They say they’ve got a secure location- Swan!”

Swan was already walking away, pushing his way through the crowd. 

“Swan, wait!” Toshi hurried after him, making a grab for Swan’s arm and yanking so hard the fine boned Swan nearly fell. 

“Don’t touch me!” The words came out much louder and harsher than Swan had intended and several heads turned towards them. “Don’t you ever touch me!” 

The clone who had been watching them stepped closer, his armour painted red in custom patterns that meant nothing to Swan. “Is there a problem here?” His hand wasn’t on his blaster but it was close, resting on a belt pouch. 

Swan shook Toshi off hard, straightening his shirt. “I’m fine. If you want that done,” He nodded to the bag and the droid head within. “You contact me direct.” He dropped a contact card on the table. Already he could feel the spot on his arm where Toshi had grabbed him starting to bruise and swell. “I’ll do the job. But on my terms.” 

Without looking back, he stormed out of the bar.

They’d contact him, or they wouldn’t. He’d get paid, or he wouldn’t. Either way, he needed a drink. From the other side of a locked door.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks Josh!


End file.
